


The Last Song

by Spinning_Mouse



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Death, Not A Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spinning_Mouse/pseuds/Spinning_Mouse
Summary: Lucio and Reaper fight. It doesn't go well.





	The Last Song

With a few deft movements of his hand, Lucio switched songs, using the quick beats of his own music to push him forward just a little faster. The rest of the team was waiting, already embroiled in the main fight that he’d gotten cut off from by a few lagging Talon agents. Something was messing with their comms, leaving Lucio with nothing but static to guide him. Hopefully he’d memorized that map as well as thought he did.

This, at least, was nothing for him. Besides from a few bruises and scratches, and a couple splatters of blood he preferred not to think about, Lucio was in one piece. More than enough strength to jump into a wall, his home made skates grinding against the surface with almost no friction. He jumped from surface to surface, gathering momentum as he went. 

That’s when a fly, apparently blessed by a goddess of good luck whose whims today gave her a passing interest in a certain DJ, flew by his face, just close enough, annoying enough, to get Lucio to turn his head as he waved it away.

It stood on a ledge above him, a swirling mass of unnaturally black smoke. Only one part of the smoke had clung together tight enough to form an arm, holding an all too solid sawed off shotgun.

Lucio pushed himself off the wall as hard as he could, but even as fast as he was there was no avoiding the bullets. The pellets tore into his side, throwing his movements off as he twisted to try and land on his feet. Instead he slammed into the ground, hard. His ears rung from the sound, throwing the entire world out of balance. His sonic amplifier landed with a concerning crack, just barely in reach.

Getting shot fucking _hurt_. He’d been in fights before, but there had never been anything like this pain, this fire in his side that burned away his fortitude with each second. He screamed at the pain, a hand gripping the wound, feeling the sticky blood staining his usually green shirt. He glanced down, seeing it pooling on the ground where it dripped out of his body. How was it already everywhere? His hands, parts of his arm, splattered up his torso and onto the armor over his legs.

Footsteps. So quiet, but somehow the only sound he heard besides his own harsh breathing and thudding heartbeat. Footsteps that were only getting louder. 

He moved his hand with difficulty, the movements stiff. They were enough, but barely. His songs switched, his suit creating his own personal biotic field. Not enough to completely heal him, but enough to dull the pain and slow the bleeding. Enough for his other hand to creep towards his weapon and get a grip on the handle. Enough to move, to push himself up, finding himself in an awkward squat as he looked into the empty eye sockets of a bone white mask, the grim reaper himself watching Lucio’s struggles dispassionately. 

Reaper raised his weapons, one shotgun now turned into two.

With a shout, Lucio swung his own weapon up, squeezing off his alternate fire. The sound burst out with a boom, the force enough to send reaper into the air, slamming down onto his back almost as if he were a normal human and not some smoke demon from hell. 

This was his opportunity. Lucio forced himself back onto his feet, groaning from the pain. He had to run, he had to get out. There was no way he could fight this thing alone. He needed to warn his team about this. He tried his comm. More static. He forced himself to move.

He’d barely gone twenty yards when he saw it, a black cloud forming on the ground, swirling around itself and taking shape once again, no more than a few yards in front of him. Lucio skidded to a stop once again, but this time he was more prepared, staying on his feet while he swung up his weapon and fired it off. Pain ripped through his side with the movement. Getting shot _really fucking hurt_.

His gun sent out a line of sonic projectiles, vibrations that could hit a person like a punch and throw off their equilibrium at the same time. They were slow, but so was Reaper’s mist. Lucio heard the satisfying sound of the man grunting in surprise and maybe even pain as his projectiles slammed into the now solid parts of Reaper’s body. This time, unfortunately, Reaper stayed on his feet too.

“ _Brat_ ” Reaper hissed, his low voice echoing with an unnatural tone, like something out of a horror movie.

Lucio couldn’t help but smirk.

“Trouble keeping up?”

There was a beat of silence, and then it all went chaotic, everything moving too fast. Reaper fired again, but so did Lucio, this time managing to dodge while watching Reaper’s large movements. They moved around each other, not the smooth and quick dance Lucio knew when he sparred Genji or Tracer, but instead something awkward and confusing. Lucio was small and quick compared to his enemy, but Reaper’s experience was obvious, every move calculated and vicious. Even as he struggled to get a hit on the DJ, he took advantage of the wound he’d created, testing Lucio’s endurance as every dodge and jump and spin and counterattack sent sharp pains through him. 

Lucio knew he was losing. It was getting harder to see clearly, harder to move and balance himself. He tried to fire one more time, trying to use his alternate fire to put a little space between them, maybe give him a moment to breath, or better yet, to run. He squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

No, no no no, that wasn’t possible. When had he run out of ammo? 

There wasn’t time to figure anything out. That moment of shock, a single moment of stillness, was the opportunity Reaper needed. 

He brought down one of shotguns, slamming it into the side of Lucio’s head. The world spun as the force threw him down. He felt something crack. 

His music still played, an odd backdrop to the slow, deliberate steps of Reaper. Lucio tried to move. Every inch was like agony.

There was another sound, too. Something like static in his ear. The comms? For a moment he thought he heard a voice. There was too much interference to make out the words, but it sounded familiar. McCree maybe?

“Reaper…” he muttered, unsure if his voice would even get through, “Reaper’s here.”

The footsteps stopped.

“I don’t think they can hear you.”

His voice was even more frightening this close up. He sounded more amused than anything, as if Lucio’s pain were an entertaining distraction. Maybe for him it was.

Lucio pushed. It felt impossible, even the task of sitting up, but he pushed. It felt so cliche he wanted to laugh at himself, but he couldn’t help but picture them, his teammates waiting for him up ahead, his friends back home, the faces of his fans as the laughed and smiled at him onstage. 

He knew Reaper was watching. He knew it was probably pointless. But he moved, an inch at a time, first onto his elbows, then his knees. He stopped there, kneeling, resting an arm on his knee. His head was ringing. Everything hurt. 

“You done?”

He was mocking him. Lucio scowled. He took a deep breath and snapped his head up to look at reaper, a scathing response on his lips. But he didn’t see Reaper’s face, or at least the mask that took its place. He just saw the barrel of a gun in his face. It was too big, more like a portal to hell than a weapon.

Lucio had gotten used to the sounds of guns lately, strange as it seemed. He listened to the pings of Tracer’s pistols, the crack of McCree’s Peacekeeper, even the pop of Angela’s sidearm. He’d never heard the sound of a shotgun before. Even now, he only registered it for a fraction of a second, a deep and ear shattering sound. Then it was gone, as quick as it came. 

In an instant, everything was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I was going to do something like this at the end of a larger story centered around Lucio, but because of personal issues it's been pretty much impossible for me to finish anything longer than a one shot for months. I've gotten tired of having this as a WIP so I'm just putting this out as a one shot. That's also why there's no real context or framing, because I had never decided on where this would happen, and now I'm too tired to be bothered.   
> I've never been a good writer but I feel bad never really practicing at all, so if a few shitty one shots are all I can manage rn, that's what I'll do. Even if they do involve killing my main, lmao.


End file.
